


Suffocation

by Rotpeach



Series: Goretober 2016 [4]
Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novel)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Goretober 2016, Other, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rotpeach/pseuds/Rotpeach
Summary: "You don't know what you look like right now," he says. "You don't know how much I want to watch you die."





	

**Author's Note:**

> for goretober day 14, "asphyxiation"

At first, you weren’t sure Sano even noticed when his hands wrapped around your throat.

It seemed like an automatic gesture, the sort of thing he just did without really thinking about it when he had you on his lap, losing himself to the sensation of being sheathed to the hilt inside of you. And it always hurts a little bit when his grip is tight enough to leave bruises, when he presses down and cuts off your air. Your lungs start to burn and your vision starts to blur and you scratch angry red marks into his shoulders as you struggle to stay conscious.

But you didn’t stop him.  

You never even tried.

And eventually, he noticed, and that was when it could no longer be called accidental.

There’s something ritualistic about it now, a conscious and purposeful element to his movements. Each time, he holds on for just a little longer, squeezes your neck until your eyelids flutter and your hands fall to your sides, and then he pushes even further just to see how far your endurance goes.

“There must be something wrong,” he tells you, panting with exertion as he rolls his hips up into you and runs his fingers over your collarbone, teasingly light touches that serve as a warning for what’s to come. “Your survival instincts aren’t kicking in or you’d try to fight me off.” 

Your breathing is already coming in labored puffs and you’re bracing yourself against his chest, trying to keep up with the demanding pace he’s setting. You know it’s going to burn and ache and throb. The pain is going to settle deep in your chest and bloom there, radiating through you until it’s all you can think of. You’re going to tremble and cry and try to scream but you won’t make a sound.

Sano gives you a cold smile when he notices you growing more aroused. “It’s alright,” he tells you. “That just means there’s something wrong with both of us.”

Your entire body tenses in anticipation when he reaches for your throat. His touch is gentle at first as he eases you into it, holding your gaze as his thrusts slow in favor of keeping his attention on your face. He likes to watch you when he does this; in the same calculated way he observes a specimen writhing on the operating table, he keeps a careful eye on the rise and fall of your shoulders and the tremble in your hands. He wants to know exactly what he’s doing to you, wants to see what oxygen deprivation does to the human body in the throes of pleasure.

“How would you feel,” he asks, “if I just...didn’t let go?” He leans in, tilting his head curiously. “If I pushed you too far and let you asphyxiate. What would go through your head when it all starts to fade away?”

He squeezes harder suddenly, and any words you might have said are trapped in your throat. His thrusts turn harsh, slamming into you as deep as he can go, and a whimper desperately tries to escape your lips. 

“You don’t know what you look like right now,” he says. “You don’t know how much I want to watch you die.”

Your hands scramble across his chest and make it as far as his shoulders, pinching and scratching and shaking, searching desperately for something to hold onto. Fear coils around you when you don’t see the detached look you’re accustomed to in his eyes but something much more passionate, his cheeks flushed and soft laughter spilling from his lips. 

“Maybe,” he whispers, “This time….”  

He gives another harsh thrust and your mouth falls open when you reach climax, unable to see or hear or even feel anything for a moment. You wonder if you’re dying. You wonder if he’s still holding on, if he really isn’t going to stop until your lifeless body collapses against him. You wonder if he’s even going to miss you. 

Suddenly you come crashing back, gasping and shuddering and chest heaving. Sano’s hands are on your hips, keeping you steady, and he has an unreadable expression on his face. He watches you, waiting until your body stops shaking and you’re able to meet his eyes.

“What did you think of?” he asks.

You inhale deeply; there’s a lingering pain in your chest and you still feel a little light-headed. Your throat stings, and you think the imprint of his hands must be there. “Nothing,” you answer honestly. “I couldn’t think of anything. Just….”

Sano studies your face a moment longer before he gives a smile that you don’t think is meant for you. It’s small and amused and just a bit cruel. Something tells you that this won’t be the last time he nearly lets you die.

One of these days he is going to kill you, and you might just let him.


End file.
